


at the end of the day

by river_of_words



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25914988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_of_words/pseuds/river_of_words
Summary: At the end of a long few days of saving a world, the fam sits in the sun on a grassy hill and Yaz and the Doctor share a moment of indulgence.inspired by this post: https://2hearts2braincells.tumblr.com/post/626309109038383104/imagine-if-yaz-once-just-presses-her-forehead
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	at the end of the day

It’s the first break they’ve had in days. They just saved a planet, and they all decided they deserved an ice cream and to maybe just sit in the sun for a little while. So the Doctor took them to the nicest ice cream shop in the galaxy and they walked up a sun-soaked grassy hill to a picnic table that definitely wasn’t designed with humans in mind, but they made do.

Ryan and Graham had laid down in the grass and fallen asleep as soon as they finished their ice cream, so now it was just Yaz and the Doctor, sitting across from each other at an alien picnic table, on an alien planet, under an alien sun, tired and proud and so content. These were the parts of travelling with the Doctor Yaz liked best. When she knew they’d done good, they’d helped people, made a difference, and now they could relax seeing things no other human ever got the opportunity to. She felt on top of the world, and it wasn’t even her own world.

Yaz watched the Doctor across from her at the table. She’d taken off her coat and sat with her elbows leaning on the table, head heavy in her palms. Her eyes were closed but Yaz wasn’t sure she was asleep. She didn’t see the Doctor sleep much, and she suspected that if she really was asleep she would be sitting a lot less straight. Yaz was imagining something a bit more sprawled out, limbs everywhere, taking up as much space as possible, in the least convenient spot she managed to find.

There was a faint smile playing at the Doctor’s lips. Her hair was still a mess from all the running through the woods they’d been doing. Her own hair was probably in a similar state, Yaz thought. She had half a mind to find and detangle the twigs from her own hair but she felt warm and heavy and there’d be time enough later. Maybe she could offer to take the leaves and twigs out of the Doctor’s hair. That would be a good excuse. Maybe the Doctor would even return the favour. Yaz couldn’t suppress her smile at the thought. With her eyes still closed, the Doctor smiled too. As if she’d heard Yaz.

* * *

The Doctor wasn’t asleep. She didn’t really need to be. She wasn’t tired in that way. She could keep going, jump back in the Tardis, find another distress call, some people to save, go for another round. And they would, soon. But for now she was content to just sit here for a bit. Watch – well, listen to – her fam rest. Their steady breaths, their singular hearts still beating away in their chests. Tired, but happy, and safe. There’d been a couple of close calls in the past few days, but they’d all made it through in one piece and she felt her hearts swell in her chest with pride for them. Their courage and their ingenuity and their willingness to help others, not even humans, at the risk of their own safety. And they would do it again, without even being asked. Tomorrow, probably. When she’d drag them back into danger and excitement. Loose strands of hair tickled her face when she sighed.

Not yet. Now, here in the sun with her fam, the Doctor could be still for a moment. Painful memories far enough away, faint enough in the distance, behind a veil of fading adrenaline and sore legs and the lingering taste of ice cream, she could be still for a moment.

The Doctor took a deep breath and smiled. She could feel Yaz watching her. She always did. Yaz’s attention on her was like a clear ringing bell in her psychic field of vision. Oh, that was really mixing the sense metaphors, wasn’t it. It was like a beautiful bird’s song tempting her further into the forest. But she shouldn’t. That path did not end anywhere good. Ended on Norwegian beaches and at the end of time and the universe. It did not end anywhere good.

So she tried to pretend not to notice. Not to reciprocate Yaz’s lingering looks. Not to compliment her any more or in any other way than she did any other person. Tried to make sure Ryan or Graham were always there as a buffer. Not to give herself, or Yaz, any opportunity.

But sometimes – promise, only sometimes – she was weak. And she indulged herself a little. So she kept her eyes closed and felt, more than anything, Yaz’s eyes on her face. Her attention like another sun, warm and radiant and wonderful. It made the Doctor want to turn her face toward it like a sunflower. Yaz was thinking about the twigs in their hair. Yes, that would be a good excuse, Yaz. Plenty of plausible deniability. No one would know.

On her next exhale, the Doctor moved forward slightly. Barely a centimeter really, just shifting her weight. She kept her eyes closed. Mentally nudged Yaz. Go on, comment on the messy hair. But maybe she nudged a bit too hard, maybe she leaked some memories, bled some desires. It was foolish, really. Wishes born out of loneliness and bad judgement. Not to be taken seriously. But she’d never really been all that great a psychic.

The – really quite uncomfortable – picnic table creaked and wobbled as Yaz moved, and then she did the absolute last thing the Doctor expected. She took the Doctor’s face in her hands and pressed their foreheads together. Latched onto the Doctor’s thoughts like a little Time Tot. Wobbly and clumsy but oh so earnest. A waterfall of love, of hands brushing together in passing, of radiant smiles, of grins that betrayed a bit too much fun in running for their lives, of shared glances that said ‘we did good today’, of love love Love.

The Doctor opened her eyes in surprise, stared straight into Yaz’s wide brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Yaz stammered, letting go, moving backward, getting her leg tangled in the unfriendly picnic table as she tried to get up. She ended up on the ground with one leg still stuck in the table. The waterfall now rushing out of her mouth in the form of nervous words tripping over themselves.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t know why, you said once, I’m sorry–” She looked up at the Doctor and the fear in her eyes needed to be rectified _immediately_. The Doctor jumped up.

“Yaz. Yaz Yaz Yaz–” She hurried over to Yaz’s side of the table and helped her get unstuck so they were both sitting on the ground. Really, very, _way_ too close to each other.

“I’m sorry,” Yaz repeated, beautiful brown eyes staring straight into the Doctor’s soul.

The Doctor shook her head resolutely.

“No.”

She took Yaz’s face in her hands and, closing her eyes, softly pressed their heads together. Yaz was still a bubbling fountain of love. The Doctor let herself get drenched in it for a moment. All the love she’d been keeping at arm’s length, been denying herself. Because she couldn’t have this. This was a bad idea. This did not end anywhere good.

And yet, despite all that, she smiled, and felt Yaz’s nervous giggle shake the both of them.

“What–” Yaz whispered, trying to suppress her giggles.

“Not sorry,” the Doctor said sincerely. She pulled her face away from Yaz, hands still on her face, and met her eyes. “That’s not what you say. You’re welcome. That’s what you say.”

“You’re welcome?” Yaz asked, eyes wide but smiling. Yasmin Khan, with her courage and her kindness and her sense of justice. With her big brown beautiful eyes that could hold the entire universe in them.

The Doctor smiled at her. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> barely revised little thing that i wrote because i saw the post and someone tagged it 'someone write this' and i couldnt resist. kinda veered away from what the post described at the end there, kinda forgot the prompt, but it's kinda nice anyway, i think so at least. im sorry they dont kiss but listen, they cant, i cant see 13 kiss anyone im sorry, she just wouldnt, not while my hands on the keyboard anyway
> 
> it's sweet though, i like how it turned out, theyre sweet


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